Only Say the Word and I Shall Be Healed
by Ruby Garnet
Summary: (LL One-shot.) - "What I mean is that there's more to being sorry than just saying the word." Three weeks after TMT.


**Only Say the Word and I Shall Be Healed**

Disclaimer: Wouldn't it be fun if I actually did own something? But I don't, so why question. 

A/N: Takes place three weeks after 'Teach Me Tonight'. What's bolded is supposed to be italicized. FF.net is a rotten lasagna. 

Dedicated to Stephanie, Elise, and Ashley – the three people who can read, beta, eat, chat, and give advice all at the same time! 

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ 

"Luke, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. More sorry than I've ever been before in my life. I never meant…" she desperately pleads with him. She touches his hand, but he withdraws it quickly. 

"Truthfully, I don't think you ever **mean** to do anything, Lorelai."  His voice is cold and she can't tell if this comment is a compliment or an insult. 

"…Yeah I do." she slowly answers. 

This time, turning to look her in the eye, he spits back, "No. You don't." He throws a dishtowel into the sink and is satisfied when it lands with a thud.

He doesn't have to look. He knows that she is looking down at her hands and fighting back tears. He knows that she feels the sting of his words, as short as they are. He knows that she wants to retaliate with some example that will prove him wrong and put her back into the safe spotlight of would-be perfection. However, there is no example; there isn't anything she could say that could prove him wrong. 

The silence is thick, and Luke senses that Lorelai is about to get up and leave. She bends over to pick up her purse, and he starts rambling again. 

"What I mean is that there's more to being sorry than just saying the word," he blurts out. 

Lorelai lets out a quiet sigh, acknowledging that Luke isn't finished. She puts her purse back onto the floor and says, "I know that. That's why…I only say it when I mean it, if you can understand that." She warily looks up. 

Of course he understands. 

**"Oh son, it's not that you're not a good runner. You are. We just don't have room on the team for you right now…I'm sorry." **

**"This must be so hard on you. Your dad was an honest man, Luke. He loved you so much. I'm truly sorry." **

**"Luke, I'm sorry! I just don't know how to take care of kids. Jess doesn't know me and I don't know him. I need help. Please."**

People always told him that they were sorry. "What are you apologizing for?" he wondered. Luke thought it was ridiculous that people felt sorry for things they couldn't change. 

Now, right in front of him, is the one woman in his life that he admires because she never regrets her decisions, and now she says she is **sorry**? 

Does that mean she doesn't think things will change? 

Luke remains sharp in his tone of voice. "What exactly are you sorry **for**?" 

"…What do you **want** me to say I'm – "

"No Lorelai! I want to know what **you're** sorry for. You can't go around asking people what they want all the time. Sometimes, it's about what **you** want." 

Lorelai looks hurt for a moment, but her expression softens. "I'm sorry for making you feel guilty. Jess is a good kid, and I wish I hadn't overreacted and blamed you for everything. That's it…I guess." 

"That all?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fine." 

Lorelai rolls her eyes and lets out a groan of frustration. "What is it going to **take** to be in your good graces again?" She flings her arms into the air and keys fly over the counter, clanging against the floor. She walks behind the counter, but instead of retrieving the keys, she plants herself next to Luke and looks him squarely in the eye.

"What is it going to take?" 

Uncomfortable with the intimate distance, Luke bends over and picks up her keys. He places them in her open palm and says sternly, "Act on your words. Instead of apologizing, do something while you can. Too many people just stand there and think that because they've said they are sorry, the world is better." He turns to the window and wistfully says, "If only it worked that way." 

Behind him Lorelai folds her arms and challenges, "Well, what if it does?" 

He throws her a skeptical look. "What?" 

"What if apologizing does make the world better? In a small sense, I think it does." She hesitates. "Apologizing opens the door for forgiveness. Every one needs to forgive and be forgiven at some point in his or her life, right?" 

"Forgiving is hard." 

She lowers her voice a notch. "So is apologizing; admitting that you were wrong." 

"Lorelai, what are you getting at? You've said it a thousand times. Saying sorry is hard. So?" Luke didn't want to be unpleasant about this, but he didn't see another option. 

"So…the least the **other** person can do is accept the apology, forgive, and **move on**."  

"All right. I accept your apology." Luke leans against the counter and takes a deep breath. 

"Thank you. Do you forgive me?" 

"I guess." 

"Luke…" 

"Yes. I forgive you." 

"Okay. Now can we move on from this?" She bites her lip and waits patiently for an answer. 

It would be so simple if he answered yes. They'd smile at each other and everything would be the same as it was before -- subtle conversations between the mugs of coffee and afternoon phone calls cleverly disguised as pleas for home improvement assistance. Lorelai would come to the counter and beg for a donut until her eyes watered. He would give in reluctantly and open the lid to the container slowly, as if it held something radioactive or explosive. 

The thing was, he couldn't say yes. 

He was too afraid of what he would return to. Life had become simplistic when his only thought of Lorelai was a vision of her as a voodoo doll stuck with pins. He had found it therapeutic to picture her crying alone in a bed meant for two. It was difficult to be cruel, but he wasn't able to keep **both** his utopian daydreams and bitter sentiments. 

Thoughts of blue-eyed children and numerous velvet Christmas stockings hanging across a mahogany mantle made no sense if Luke was imagining their mother being chased by a masked man with a knife. There was no compromise; it was either one or the other. 

He could spend the rest of his life as the Provider, giving coffee at her beck and call while she trapezes off with all the wrong men or he could spend eternity hiding from Lorelai, with only the company of angry resent. The question lingering in his mind was not "Which is better?" but rather "Which is worse?" 

Luke had never been good with choices or dealing with emotions. Usually other people took care of that. If he was still dating Rachel, instead of her lying in his arms, he'd be lying in hers, ranting about Lorelai's unfairness. Luckily she had saved him the trouble and left him utterly alone so he could confront his fear of decision-making. 

Wrinkles appear in Luke's forehead as he continues his personal reverie. 

Lorelai interrupts softly, "Luke? Hello?" 

"What?" Luke responds, startled. 

"Can we just move on?" 

"I…I don't know. I've got to think about this some more. I need more time." 

"You've had three weeks. That's plenty of time," Lorelai states matter-of-factly. 

"I know, but I need more. I wish I could explain," sighs an exasperated Luke.  

Frowning slightly, Lorelai attempts to comprehend. "Sure. Anything you want. Could you give me a ballpark figure of when you'll come to a decision?" 

"Soon." 

"Soon," Lorelai whispers to herself, just reiterating for clarification. 

In her regular voice she says, "Soon is good." 

"Yeah." 

They stare at each other in silence for a moment. Luke breaks the gaze and becomes interested in the burn mark on the wall across from him. Lorelai returns to the other side of the counter, picks her purse up from the floor, and turns to Luke. 

"Bye. I'll be awaiting your decision." She waves and gravitates toward the door. Her hand barely grazes the knob when she hears Luke. 

"Lorelai?" 

She turns around once more. "Yeah?" 

"I'm sorry."  


End file.
